When it comes to our parents, many thoughts and feelings may come to mind. “Are they proud of me? Am I living up to their expectations? What will I do when they’re gone?” Maybe you have happy memories with your parents, or maybe there are things you want to forget. No matter what the dynamic is between you and your parents, I think we can all agree that there is one thing about our parents that we would rather not think about. I’m talking about the certain thing our parents did that led to us existing in the first place. That’s right, I’m talking about the thought of our parents falling in love! Gross!!
I mean, Yes, of course, it had to happen at least once for me to be here today. That doesn’t mean that I spend time trying to visualize it like some freak. The last thing I want to think about is my dad sliding into my mom’s tight mailbox to drop off a love letter in the middle of the night expressing his feelings. I don’t want the image of my mom wiping creamy, white whipped cream from the corner of her mouth as they enjoy a milkshake together at a diner after the school dance getting lost in one another’s eyes. I would give more graphic examples but I trust you get the point.
I’ve been in the clear of such thoughts for a long time and the thoughts of my parents creating strong emotional bonds have been hidden safely in my subconscious. That is, until it all changed one fateful visit last week.
My parents have been trapped in an icy and loveless marriage for the better part of the decade, so I naturally thought I was in the clear when I recently came to their house to do my laundry and raid their fridge without saying hello to them. Imagine my surprise when I walked into the kitchen only to find my dad lovingly kissing my mom on the cheek while they prepared dinner together. I screamed and ran out of there as fast as I could.
After contemplating scooping out my eyes with a rusty spoon, I calmed down and tried to tell myself this was a freak accident that will never happen again. Maybe they both suddenly came down with a one-day amnesia that made them forget they hate each other. Unfortunately, the past few weeks have only gotten more disgusting with each subsequent visit. I’ve heard them upstairs working as a team to reorganize the guest room. I’ve caught them in the backyard, lazily sitting side by side on the deck soaking up the sun and recalling fond memories. I hate to admit it, but I think it will only get worse from here.
While I have hope that they will once again resume barely making eye contact or talking, the future looks bleak. Just today I found out that they now have a shared Facebook profile and I think I’m going to be sick.